


Warranted Dish

by Tia_Maria



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: +18, Blood, Blood Drinking, Blood Drinks, Blood Food, Blood Kink, Dark creatures of the night everywhere, Eldritchs are leech monsters, Flug is a marvelous cook, Hence the rest of the TAGs, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I think I'm getting there..., I think it's more +16 to be honest, Implied Sexual Content, Lots of wall-slammings, M/M, Sexual Content, They need blood from time to time, This is a silly short story, What's the last stage of Villainous addiction?, Why can't I do explicit detailed sex ONCE?, alternative universe, blood blood blood, blood everywhere, but I don't talk about them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-28 08:07:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16719576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tia_Maria/pseuds/Tia_Maria
Summary: Chief Flug Slys is an awesome cook and owner of a pretty nice Pub not far from the center of the City.Even with his Social-Phobia ruling his life, he works hard every week - feeding all kinds of beings on his establishment.Once, he fed a leech monster and fell in love for it.That triggered some complicated situations...





	Warranted Dish

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came and I had to write. Pardon.

“An order!” The waiter shouted inside the kitchen, picking up the cook’s attention.

The head chief, and only kitchen employee, ran to the order panel in the up corner of the place and squinted, reading from the screen. The order consisted of a rare steak with fine herbs and a touch of _Red-O-Type_ (one of their uniqueness, most expensive and very exclusive kind of _special_ condiment). The cook, named Flug Slys, swallowed dry having unwanted assumptions, but then he nodded to himself ignoring those thoughts and went to start the dish - picking up the utensils and going for it.

Fourteen minutes later, Flug handed over the finished dish to the waiter and went to start cleaning the kitchenware.

Every day. From eleven in the morning until eleven at night - Flug Slys, a young man with more cooking skills than friends, worked on _Crawlers Pub_.

The place for unusual tastes and unusual guests. There, all kinds of beings were accepted and feed. It wasn’t the worst job, and Flug earned quite a lot. To indulge and satiate

starving people (creatures of the dark, or not) gives him the _best sensation_.

Being a cook was nice and he really _likes_ it.

There were only a few problems…

His social phobia - or _SAD_ (as he’s used to call himself in an unhumorous way as a joke) - was the main one. Being like this since young, he usually covers his face in public for fear of having people analyzing his freckled and scarred face.

His… _crush_ , on the other hand - became his _newest_ problem.

“Chief!” The waiter called him, slightly without breath from running. “ _That man_ is calling for you again.”

Sweating could as he always did when those situations happened, he shook his head at the caramel-skinned young man (whose working part-time as a waiter to save up money to go visit his parents.)

“Elliot, you know I can’t--”

The waiter interrupted him not really meaning to be rude.

“Yes!” He said, “I know it, but he doesn’t understand!” He explained. “Every single month I keep protecting you, saying that you won’t meet him for countless reasons - but _he_ won’t give up!”

Flug bit his lips in trembling nervousness.

He didn’t want to engage in that conversation - so he lied as if he didn’t recognize the man they were talking about.

“The werewolf with the provolone addiction?” Flug kid, even though he knew who’s the creature Elliot was actually referring to. But, before the young man could respond, the cook turned around and slowly hid his body beside the freezer.

“What?-- _No_ , chief!” The waiter denied, stepping closer to the (already common) hiding spot, sending disapprove glances at his employer. “The man with the _hat_!”

Flug whined, hugging his knees into his chest and concealing his face from the outside.

_Of course it was him..._

“What am I supposed to say to him this time?” Asked the young man, crossing his arms.

“Te-tell him I went home or th-that I was fired!!” The cook answered, with the voice a little muffled because of the position.

“You _own_ the Pub!”

“Damn it, Elliot!” Shouted Flug, very worried. “I-I can’t face him!”

The waiter seated on the floor of the kitchen beside the cooker and sighed. He didn’t push the subject, he just waited a little bit more - knowing what was to come in a few seconds.

And like always...

“What did he say?”

Grinning, Elliot sent a glance from the corner of his eyes to the hidden face of the human.

“He asked if you’re ready to meet him,” The waiter answered, with an easy voice. “Aaand…” He said lowly, and careful to not scare the cook. “He brought you a _flower_.”

Flug whined more, clenching both hands in his nape.

“If you permit me to comment on this, chief…” Elliot started again, getting up from the floor and picking up a few utensils over the table. “You shouldn’t let your phobia win over your happiness.”

The waiter left the kitchen after that - letting Flug self-question himself, over the company of his spices, condiments, and insecurities.

_It’s not just my social-phobia, Elliot..._

Taking a deep breath in, the professional cook, that goes by the name of Flug Slys, started to remember when it all began - almost a _year_ ago - and why he felt like this situation was doomed to repeat again and again, even though he already told Black Hat to give up on him…

 

-:-:-:-:-:-

 

Every day, at 11 am, Flug Slys walks down six blocks of the same street to open the _Crawlers Pub_ \- and he would close its’ doors at 11:30 pm. _Every day_ , except on _Mondays_.

On Mondays, he usually stays at home, either sleeping, drinking his fair collection of internationally bland cafes or enjoying a film by himself on the television. Hence, on Sundays, he spends more time organizing his kitchen before closing the doors of the Pub - so then, on Tuesday, everything would already be organized for the week.

Being a Sunday night, Chief Flug gave a farewell to Felbye, a charming half-lamb girl who worked as a waitress, and Tihajib, a seductorious imp with red skin and long hair (the horns and a tails being a bonus to the monster-fuckers customers), while still cleaning his bench - he did not look at the time when he finished, because he wasn’t hurried at all. Instead, he started singing by himself a music he heard on the radio in the morning as he was chaining every window and cabinet.

The problem with having an establishment of entertainment and leisure that accepted all kinds of creatures was that everyone knew that he has the best kinds of foods and drinks for each specific species - which mean that robbery was fairly common, unfortunately. Hence, the _chains_.

Not that chains would hold up a pack of golems, for example, but It would delay them enough for the police to take action, and that was assuredness enough for him.

_Crawlers Pub_ was not really a _popular_ place. There were other kinds of pubs with such a theme, but… the food was always something sublime that made them choose Flug’s business.

From Friday to Sunday were the days he most earns clientele, full tables, crowded lounge, and sometimes queues are formed at the entrance. Flug was a happy and pride owner. - Blessed be his provider, always filling his stock three times a week.

_Anyway_ , closing the Pub’s doors at one in the morning from Sunday to Monday wasn’t a strange thing to happen. He locks everything and, before exiting from the back entrance, he puts his mask on - a paperbag with rounded pilot goggles on top.

Having social phobia was very problematic.

After feeling confident that his face wasn’t showing, he locked the back entrance of the Pub.

His feet froze when he realized something unusual. He usually had to pass through a small alley until reaching the main street. Which he always did, no challenged. But... looking at the opposite direction of the back door, he saw a guy.

Not human. _Eldritch_.

He looked like he was about to pass out from hunger and that, suddenly, the most perfect meal just appeared in front of him using a big long winter coat and a yellow scarf.

Flug’s eyes locked at the pitch black skinned guy breathing deeply and quickly - like he was having some sort of heart attack. His body supported solely by will, propped up on the wall. He was well dressed, top hat and black suit. His skin and face, dark as charcoal, were sweating thick drops in perspiration, and his mouth - full of pointy teeth - slightly opened.

Even though Flug wasn’t good interacting with people, he felt the necessity to ask about that eldritch’s wellbeing.

“A-Are you alright?” The human tried asking, noticing the creature’s dizziness and low blood pressure state. “Do-do you need help, sir?”

The black guy grunted, staring up at the cook’s goggles. He reached a hand up and Flug noticed how _taloned_ it was.

_Unnerving._

“Want me to c-call someone?”

Grunting even more, the creature stepped closer into the cook’s direction - making Flug flinch instinctively.

The moment Flug opened his mouth to offer another kind of support, he was preyed upon.

Shouting at the sudden act of having someone in his personal space for the first time in _years_ , he panicked and pushed the dark man away from him before the creature could even press his own body into the human. Two taloned hands clenched his wrist so the cook would stop pushing him away, and collided their bodies together. The man was gripping Flug’s skin so strongly the human almost whined in pain, he felt eldritch fingers caressing the sensible part of it, looking for his inner pulse. The yellow scarf, sliding down his shoulder, gave freedom for the eldritch to deeply engage on biting the fragile neck of the cook - willing to suck the delicious blood there passing until he reached satisfaction.

Flug doubts that man even knew who he was, but he did not pull off his mask which Flug would have to admit later that he’d mindlessly appreciated the action.

The whole body of the cook felt a sudden jolt the eldritch made after the first swallow. Those taloned hands widened his grip on the younger’s wrist for a second - giving the right opportunity for Flug to _push_ the stranger away and _run_.

But he wasn’t that fast.

The cook shouted again when the teeth went deeper and the man - surprisingly (weirdly) _purring_ into his tender neck - pulled the human’s hips up with supernatural strength taking the cook’s feet off the ground, and pressed their bodies together into the nearest wall. From that man’s mouth, something numbed his wound and the bite got less and less hurtful by the second. Stuck into the architecture of his own establishment with a hard and well-built chest pressed into his own, Flug felt his body being caressed by big hands and a curious tongue licking over the bite mark.

A moan escaped Flug’s lips when the eldritch pulled his leech-mouth off of the cook’s neck. Blushing and never expecting to actually feel good when being preyed upon in the middle of an alley in a random night after closing the pub. Flug’s legs fell to the floor after being released, but they shook too much to actually support his own weigh and he almost tumbled into the pavement, gracelessly. He was about to send a hand up to cover the now-hurting-a-lot-more mark in his neck, but the creature’s hand fastly grabbed the human’s one preventing him from infecting the bite, holding his weight up in the process, not letting him fall from fatigue.

“ **Don’t touch it** .” A deep, rough, cracked, tired, _enticing_ and dark voice said into Flug’s ear, and the human could not help but gasp and nod worried that it might indeed indicate a bad signal.

Don’t vampires transform humans into their own species just by drinking their blood or something? What if Flug turned into something really rare and weirdly like an eldritch?!

Eldritchs weren’t even a common species in America - Not much was known about them!!

The latest documentary about their origin and culture was so vague, the journalist who finally got permission to do it had not responded to any really important matter the society still have to understand.

Like, why people always have difficulty to deny their requests? why were they all male? why do they live longer than any other species? why do they all dress up like rich people? And why were they so _damn attractive_?

Still having problems with standing on his own feet, the black man seemed like to take pity of the human - picking the cook up in his arms and staring down at the covered face of Flug Slys.

“I apologize for my actions.” The eldritch said after the uncomfortable yelp of the human being held in marriage style ceased. “I’ll pay for the meal.”

While being used to listen to it since his early days, Chief Flug found that very unique.

Nothing could really compare to what happened _after_ that encounter.

The eldritch man, named Black Hat - as he introduced himself - told him his business meeting was rescheduled to the next week, but, since he wasn’t from this city, he wasn’t sure where to find the specific blood type he feeds on. Every restaurant, market and even blood bank were out of O-negative and, being an O-negative eldritch, every other blood type gave him a stomachache.

His last meal was in _fifteen days_ and he was starving too much to even work.

Its an important investment in his business, so he needs to be 100% into it.

Unlucky, for him, this damn city had no O-negative whores or homeless people to buy a fraction of their blood with enough money to re-establish financially their lives back to normal.

With a sigh, Black Hat concluded saying that his actions upon Flug were an instinctive uncontrollable urge his savage side did without consequences in mind - and he would like to apologize.

Flug wasn’t sure if every little detail - like the _caresses_ and _licks_ \- were indeed that eldritch’s wild share doing, but…

He wasn’t _mad_.

Flug, a long time ago, felt enjoyment on feeding those in hungry. Hence his jobs choice. Knowing that Flug was the only one that could end that creature’s starvation, made the cook feel like it wasn’t that hard of a mater in the end - it almost felt excited about it.

And, for some reason, the eldritch wasn’t that scary... His social phobia, apparently, has principles and _exceptions_ , noticed Flug.

They had to leave the alley, but Flug wasn’t really in good strength to walk - so, while thinking of what to do, both just shared looks of uneasiness and abashment.

Drops of blood were sliding over the cook’s shoulder and drenching his coat. Black Hat licked his bottom lip before biting into it and inching over Flug’s body while carrying him. The shadow of the eldritch blocked the cooks view and his face seemed like fighting against his own instincts and sins - greediness, indignity and _envy of the coat_ \- while looking at the wound still pouring drops of blood into the cloth.

They should close it before either Black Hat or Flug pass out.

The black man, holding Flug in his arms, looked at both sides at the alley like he finally noticed how weird the situation they were in felt like.

“Should I take you home?” Asked the creature, glancing down at the human.

Flug, finally realizing that he was staring at the creature a little bit too intensively, blinked ashamed and shrugged.

“I-I--” He tried to stop stuttering. “I do live nearby…” He asserted, pointing at one of the ends of the alley. “A-about three blocks down…”

Black Hat sent an affirmative grunt and started to walk in the pointed direction.

“Let me know when you are able to stand again.” He said.

Flug could already feel his body recovering a tiny bit from the loss of blood, but he did not say anything.

Black Hat’s strong arms were comfy.

 

-:-:-:-:-:-

 

It did not happen as Flug predicted.

At first, when they reached his apartment, the cook mumbled a small sorry before entering - already feeling horrible to have such a guest in his humble home.

Black Hat frowned at the place and squinted trying to understand why the apology, since it was all organized and clean, but did not comment. Flug walked them into the living room and offered him a tea. The eldritch denied, asking where was the First-Aid Kit so they could patch that wound.

Flug waved a hand around saying that it did not matter and that he was going to take a bath before bed anyway - it did not hurt too much anymore, just itched. A painkiller would help him sleep and tomorrow it would be great again, he thought.

“ _Patch this up_ .” The eldritch man told him, eyes shining red, making the human flinch a little bit scared with the rough voice. Seeing the sudden gesture in reply, Black Hat pinched the middle of his eyebrows and sighed, when his eyes opened again, they were back to his small yellow and black iris once more. “It's a _waste_ to let your blood leak like that.” He said, after releasing his fingers from his face. Looking up at Flug, he finished. “Just… let me do it.”

The cook nod a little bit too fast and hard, repeatedly, while answering “yes”s in reply and going to look for the Kit.

The moment Flug sit in front of the man and took off his coat and scarf - giving the same access the creature had earlier, so Black Hat could help him clean the wound - the eldritch was expressing such intense emotions while frowning that Flug found himself stuck staring at his face. The man was _clearly_ salivating while wiping the blood flowing out of the bite, and the cook flushed instinctively. He might have thought too many things in a spare of seconds, having an intern discussion over good or bad attitudes and, in the end, he decided to vocalize a doubt that hunted him ever since.

Flug asked Black Hat if he was still hungry.

The pitch skinned eldritch gasped a bit, widening his eyes in surprise to be asked such a thing. Then, he sighed again and Flug held his breath in - waiting for it. Looking deeply at the cook’s eyes in hesitation, he swallowed his saliva and nod.

Flug laughed a little, still blushing and played with his hands unnerved.

_Is it weird to be happy about it?_

“I might be smelling like an industrial _kitchen_ …” He said, shrugging. “Should I… take a bath first?” He asked concerned, he was probably smelling like garlic _and_ oil.

Black Hat frowned confused. _He_ was the one getting the good. Should _he_ take a shower? Do humans have some kind of rule or _etiquette_ for this?

The eldritch opened his mouth to reply something, but closed it again - rethinking on the answer.

“...I… don’t mind.” He said slowly, in the end.

Flug just blinked, smiling internally.

_Right. Giving that I’m your dinner, you probably wouldn’t._

Flug thought to himself, almost giggling. And stopped again, flushing when realizing the second meaning it had.

Black Hat did wait a few minutes for Flug to recover from the abashment and reply him - looking down at a new flow of blood running down Flug’s clavicle and into the young man’s chest. Devoid of hairs, the dark man noticed.

It pleased him.

Coffin into a fist, Flug looked up at the eldritch guy and shrugged just one shoulder up.

“Okay then, I _guess_.”

Black Hat swallowed instinctively already salivating.

“I’ll pay.”

The cook waved a hand in the air while trying to find a comfortable position on the sofa.

“Ju-just don’t take too much.”

The eldritch man assented firmly, assuring him that he wouldn’t.

First, Flug took his shirt off, feeling the cold air of his living room crawl up his naked skin. He shivered a little but hugged his shirt again warming at least a bit his chest - and covering it as well. Being exposed like that in front of someone wasn’t doing good for his social-phobia.

He turned around. His back to the eldritch. It was probably the better position, although Flug wouldn’t be against a little bit more grouping and wall-slammings. They should maybe talk about that later. If it was something Black Hat enjoyed, them both could--

A taloned hand rested into his exposed skin, touching him tenderly, and Flug couldn’t hold a small moan leaving his mouth through closed teeth, unexpectedly - it has been so many years since…

Black Hat’s breath was hitting the human’s nape making him lose track of his own thoughts. Another shiver run up his back as the tip of the eldrich’s tongue licked the pool of blood around the wound. The deep respire Black Hat took when he finally tasted that precious _precious_ blood again, hit the back of Flug’s left ear and the human gasped. The feeling of someone licking his skin from behind was a bit too intense for the guy, especially with a big hand rubbing into his right shoulder and another one caressing his waist. And even more _especially_ with a well-built chest making itself present mere inches away from Flug’s back.

Also, _mainly_ and _mostly_ , with so much sexual tension on the air.

The eldritch couldn’t hold himself anymore and bit the conjunction of Flug’s shoulder and neck, moaning roughly when his mouth filled with fresh _delicious_ blood. The taloned hands clenched themselves into the human’s curves to keep him from flinching away from the pain as he poured a little of his natural anesthetic saliva into the new wound. Flug did shout when he was bit, but the grip grounding him to the sofa helped him not move too much, allowing Black Hat to drain his fair parcel of blood from the cook’s circulatory system.

Flug felt his pressure low little by little as the eldritch pressed him chest more and more into his back.

Given that he did not pass out until now - since he had already lost a lot of blood from the beginning - Flug was considering himself quite resistant. But, being utterly _difficult_ to keep standing from the world spinning in front of his eyes, he dropped his own body into Black Hat's one. Giving him full control of the situation.

He _shouldn't_.

He didn't even know the guy that well.

Black Hat embraced the shivering body of the human and with a one last swallow of blood. He sucked the human's tender wound slowly and freed Flug's body, letting the younger lay down on the couch. He reached the first aid kit breathlessly, a bit euphoric and _very_ worked up. The eldritch cleaned the draining blood with a piece of cloth and stared intensely at it drenched with such preciousity, he frowning, gave up his instincts and saved it into one of his pockets for later. Fastly, he patched Flug's wounds up with antiseptic, gauze and tape. Stepping away of the passed out man, he sit on an armchair nearby, trying to recompose himself from it all.

He was yet out of breath - drinking blood from someone was never this intense. Not even from his main type. With closed eyes, Black Hat sighed. And, opening them again, he looked down at the human sleeping on the couch.

The bag hiding his face wasn’t something usual to see. But the beings that carried his blood type normally tended to be a little bit more reclusive and timid - hence the difficulty on finding them.

Looking at the human’s exposed chest and down at what seems like to be a small protuberance in the end of a very nice yellow hair path, make Black Hat reach a hand into his own mouth in thought - and finally realizing he did not clean the remaining blood stuck to his face. Whipping it out with the back of a taloned hand, the eldritch glanced down at his own excited state and blushed a little.

In contrary to what he previously thought, he wasn’t different from any other eldrich, apparently - it just took him a _long_ time to find someone good enough to be his _blood bank_.

A few fellows from ‘old lands’ would probably laugh at him if they knew. Recalling Black Hat’s early days shouting to all four winds that he would _never anchor to anyone_.

**_If I knew it is this good..._ **

The pitch skinned being thought. Looking back at the cook sleeping before him, he instinctively licked his checks and teeth from inside – enjoying the aftertaste of that man’s blood.

“...” Black Hat opened his mouth to call him, but remembered he didn’t know the human’s _name_.

Facepalming, the eldritch reprimanded himself for the _worst_ first impression that someone his level and standard could _ever_ make - the human was probably going to be _mad_ at him.

Sighing, Black Hat crossed his arms and had a pretty long debate with himself internally about _what to say_ when that man wakes up again.

And, while the eldritch was mumbling and changing facial expressions every second in a deep self-discussion, Flug was dreaming very nice things related to a newfound kink.

 

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

 

It didn’t take too much time for Flug to wake up. When he did, he saw Black Hat grimacing with eyes closed at nothing in specific, and decided to sit up in the couch he was laying down before. He inspected the patched up wound on his shoulder and noticed it didn’t hurt too much, thankfully. He looked back at the eldritch man and wanted to call his attention but... he was feeling a little bit _timid_.

They _had_ a pretty intense moment together, although it was very much different from anything he could ever guess. But mostly, a kind of intimacy that Flug was not used to.

Not that he didn’t like it. Just… It was something _new_ to him.

Don’t blame the guy for being shy!

Black Hat opened his eyes for a second, giving himself an eye roll over something his inner self-said, and notices Flug staring at him curiously.

The eldritch opened his mouth slowly, thinking on a way to greet the human.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, showing concern.

Flug smiled and, even with the paper mask, the creature was able to see it through his eyes and body expression.

“G-good.” Replied the other adult. “A-and you?”

Black Hat blinked a little, not understanding why he was a subject of concern, but he assented anyway, assuring the human.

“ _Full_.” The eldritch answered.

Flug laughed a little nervous, and something in his lower belly said he was very happy to know it.

“M-may I se-serve us coffee?” The man asked and almost instantly regretted it. It didn’t sound as cool as he thought it would be.

Black Hat blinked sensing the uneasy in the air. Damn it, he doesn’t know how to _not_ mess everything up.

**_He doesn’t drink coffee._ **

“Sure.” He said, slowly.

Flug sighed happily. Standing from the couch, he stepped closer to the kitchen. When he reached the door of the living room, he paused and looked back at the armchair Black Hat was sitting into, sharing a quick non-verbal talk through stares.

What he did say, though? Was a _mystery_.

He gave Black Hat a mug of fresh coffee and sit back into the couch, already sipping from his own mug.

When the eldritch sipped at the beverage, he regretted it _immensely_. First, because the taste was not of his liking. Second, and most important, because it ridded the taste of blood off from his mouth. Black Hat almost cried in frustration – but he swallowed, and put the mug down at the table.

“I forgot to ask your name.” He said to the human, surprising the younger one.

Flug widened his eyes, and blinked.

He was right.

“M-my name is Flug Slys.” The man answered. “I-I work as a cook in that pub we met.”

Black Hat nodded. He guessed right.

“I apologize again for earlier.” The eldritch replied, crossing his taloned fingers together while supporting his body by the elbows, opened legs and a serious expression.

Flug was infatuated, and swallowed the coffee to calm down his own nerves – averting his stare.

“I-it-it’s ok, really.” Assured the human, waving a hand in the air.

“Even though,” The older one said, sending an uneasy glance at Flug’s goggles. “I shall thank you _properly_.”

The cook’s almost sure that Black Hat was immune to his social-phobia, because _that_.

_That_ would be _very_ much appreciated - instead of scaring him or such.

“How about dinner?” The creature asked, trying to send a charming grin at the young man.

As if he _needed_.

“Yes!” Said Flug, quickly. Feeling a little ashamed to do so. Sending a hand up to his mouth.

Looking at the surprised face of the eldritch, he lowered his hand and answered again.

“Yes, I’d like to.” He smiled, clearly happy.

Black Hat admired the human for a second, before smiling back.

**_Perfect._ **

Black Hat thought.

**_When the time comes, we’ll talk about the details._ **

 

-:-:-:-:-:-

 

Flug asked him kindly to not take him to a place too… _full_ , explaining that he has a phobia for _crowded_ places. The dinner was arranged to happen a week later, a day before the eldritch’s flight, at a very good - though not really well known - restaurant a bit far from the center.

Black Hat chose a special kind of wine and Flug said he would have whatever the eldritch picked.

They chatted.

They drunk.

Black Hat told Flug his meeting was a success and that he needed to go back to New York. But that he really really _really_ appreciated the cook’s blood and he would _love_ to taste it again if permitted. He said that eldritchs _do need_ their specific kind of blood at least once a month, and that other types can only satisfy so far. The problem was that O-type is the rarest type of blood to find, and even more a type that taste as good as Flug’s blood does.

Black Hat said that a travel from his city to this one is hard to book so he’ll have to rent a particular plane to do it every single month, but he was willing to do it for Flug’s blood – and, if the human agrees to him, he would pay the cook a high amount of money each time it happened.

Because Flug was _such a find_.

The cook had never blushed more in his entire life. Black Hat was talking like a serious business arrangement, but all Flug could hear was a _confession_ mixed with _love promises_.

He thought about it. He was willing to give the eldritch a bit of it for _free_ , so he didn’t see why not do it and even gain money by _feeding_ the man. It was like his job, in almost every way. But… if the bites were going to be as intense as the first and the second one, the human wouldn’t be able to _keep his intentions_ from _showing_.

He did agree. And crossed two of his fingers, hoping that things would end okay for them both.

 

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

 

On that same night, though, they had sex.

Black Hat slammed Flug’s body into the door after closing it, and devoured his lips. They were a bit drunker than they should, considering it was still the middle of the week. But neither cared.

Black Hat caressed Flug’s ribs under his social shirt while licking the insides of the human’s mouth, carefully to not hurt the cook’s lips with his own pointy teeth. Flug’s hands were massaging his nape and the back of his head, moaning deliciously into the eldritch kisses. Talons were playing around with the human’s sensible nipples as Black Hat grinned mischievously, pressing a thigh between the cook’s ones.

The human arched into the creature’s hands, scared to be showing such lewd sounds and expressions, but also excited to be finally getting some attention after all these years.

“How deep do you want to go?” Asked Black Hat, biting lightly Flug’s bottom lip, making the human gasp.

The cook was a bit confused. Does he need to vocalize his wishes? He never heard about it before. Is it an eldritch thing? Do they need permission to keep giving incredible and marvelous sensations into a person’s body? _tha hell_ …

Flug assented, strongly, pulling Black Hat’s face to meet his lips again - not realizing that it _was not a proper answer_.

He opened his legs a little bit more and pressed himself into the bulge that the eldritch was showing through his trousers – of course he wanted _all_ of it!

Picking the back of Flug’s thighs with his arms, the strong dark creature threw the human over one shoulder and walked them into the main room.

Flug’s bag fell into the floor, and the cook stared at it apprehensively.

“I-is it okay to-to-to turn off the lights?” He asked when he felt his body hit the mattress of his king-size bed. His hands flying to cover his face before Black Hat could see him completely exposed.

The eldritch studied the little bit of Flug’s face that he could see, and concluded it was _beautiful_.

“Of course.” He said, turning off the lights.

Between fingers, Flug looked back at Black Hat. Now on the dark – almost nothing could be seen coming from the pitch skinned creature.

Two hands worked his bell off, and Flug closed his eyes, enjoying _everything_.

 

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

 

The following day was Wednesday, so, it was _not_ Flug’s day off - but he owned the _damn_ pub. He called his employees and gave them (and himself) an extra day of rest. Black Hat was going to take a plane precisely at 16pm. So, while they could, they kept having sex.

Flug woke up with the eldritch already inside him, pulling him to stay with his ass up while leisurely pounded inside his very sensitive entrance. He moaned when Black Hat found that perfect spot again (the one that takes him almost 10 minutes to find by himself), and pressed his whole body into Flug’s back taking advantage of the sleepy state of the human. A taloned hand reached under the cook’s body to play with his erection, oh so slowly.

When Black Hat bit, just a tiny _tiny_ bite, on the middle of Flug’s back and started licking the blood running down the white man’s skin – the human came with a loud moan leaving his lips in a shameless show of pleasure.

Black Hat started to purr again, as he used to do right after Flug reached orgasm or sounded like that.

While licking the new wound, the eldritch started to pound his hard love toll into Flug’s wet, sloppy, _delicious_ hole he came to desire so much.

The eldritch’s hands took the human’s waist firmly, moving it to a _nice_ position, arching his back, getting all the best access to keep slamming into the young man. Black Hat was in paradise.

So was Flug.

 

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

 

At 14pm Black Hat entered the bathroom to take a shower, which induced Flug to finally realize that he wouldn’t meet Black Hat for a month or even more than that – their sex wasn’t exclusive, which meant that they were not dating, but…

When will Flug be able to get a fuck as good as that with his fucking social-phobia ruling his life??!

The human ignored the localized pain and the already too many gauzes and plasters all over his body and entered the bathroom.

When his back hit the porcelain wall and his legs were being thrown over Black Hat’s shoulders, he gripped the eldritch’s head and kissed him decided to never forget that creature’s taste – although it was a little bit difficult to do since every movement that Black Hat did, penetrating and filling each single space that was remaining intact from the last 20 hours, was inducing Flug to moan, and groan, and gasp, and shout, and call his name too many times to be considerate _normal_.

Although Black Hat seemed to be loving it, It did not seem _healthy_ for the human.

In the end, Flug knew he was going to have a hard time walking for at least 4 hours.

Eldritchs _do have_ an intense way of parting from someone they liked.

 

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

 

Black Hat did not invite Flug to wave in farewell at the airport. They weren’t… well… _having anything_ . The eldritch liked his blood too much to not have it more times, so he tried to make the human addict to him and, of course, to his money - but he _has_ a job and a life in another city. He doesn’t _want_ any compromise.

“I can’t ask you to not _date_ , I just--” He would try to explain. “I would like to have… _this_ again.” He indicated, pointing to both of them.

Flug nod, blushing a little bit.

“To be frank, It’s not like I have any _candidate_.” Flug shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest. “I will most likely just wait for you to show up again.”

Black Hat stared deeply at Flug’s eyes and closed their proximity, sealing their lips one more time in a silent goodbye kiss.

 

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

 

Flug’s life was back to normal a day after that. And normal it kept being until Black Hat shows up at the Pub, once a month, in a random day, orders a special (and expensive) meal consisting of a Rare Steak boiled in blood and Champagne (a dish that Flug created and put on the menu _because_ of him and his type), then, he would wait until the Pub closes and Flug appears from inside of the kitchen, wearing his mask and ready to go.

The eldritch would take him to a nice restaurant, pay for his meal while savoring a good glass of fine wine, and then, they would go home and have amazing sex until Black Hat’s flight departure time arrives. Sometimes the eldritch would stay another day, and would accompany the cook to the market, there, they would chat and have a nice time talking about nothing specific. After that, it would be back to normal again – repeating the process.

It wasn’t the worst kind of relationship that Flug could find. Not that it _was_ one, but the cook liked to think that Black Hat’s need of him every month is something like a casual and sexual relationship of some kind. On his free days, the human would stay home, by himself, watch a movie, order a pizza or something… and try to ignore the weird sensation of loneliness inside himself.

Only two days a month to feel _wanted_ \- then, the rest went by without any other contact. No phone calls, no letters, _nothing_.

With Black Hat having his own life in another place and Flug just… there… alone… _aging_ …

It _saddened_ him.

Five to six months later, though, he found himself in quite a difficult situation.

“Flug, may I talk to you?” Tihajib asked, knocking at the kitchen’s door.

The cook was peeling some potatoes while listening to a music on the radio he keeps turned on at all times – always in the same station.

He looked up at his employee and answered.

“Sure, come in.” The human pointed to the chair he was sitting and sat down into one of his workbenches. It was almost eleven, so there wouldn’t be much customers to attend.

Tahajib, the well-built imp with red skin and horns, entered and did not sit on the chair. Instead, he stood in front of Flug with a malicious grin and asked him out.

“ _What_?”

“You don’t want to?” He asked, grinning even more. “I know you are timid and have a little bit of problems with public-places, and I’m a bartender and talk a little bit too much with everyone.” He waved a hand around and shrugged one shoulder up, non-challengy. “But I really like you, and I think we might work well together.”

Flug wasn’t prepared for _that_.

Tahajib was working for the cook for over a year and he never showed any signs of being _into_ him – something was _wrong_.

Or Flug was just _too blind_ for his own sake.

“Taj—“ He tried to call him by his nickname but the other man raised a hand to rest a finger into the cook’s lips.

“We are both adults, Flug.” He closed their proximity and sent a very hot stare up and down the cook’s body. “I finally found out that you are into guys _and_ creatures of the night. How about you give me a chance? If you want, we can go slowly _or_ it can be just for fun. I will let you decide.”

Flug did know how handsome Tahajib was by all beings standard. But the thought of going out with someone as social as he was, makes Flug a little _uncomfortable_.

He shook his head, denying it.

“It’s not like _that_ , Tajh.” He said, kindly. “I’m not into… _relationships_ right now.” Replied, sincerely. But somewhat also _lying_.

If Black Hat’s image crossing his mind was one of the motives, he did ignore.

Frowning, the imp man sighed sadly.

“So you are dating that black guy?”

Flug bit his lower lip, and shook his head again. Because it was what Black Hat told him.

“No, we just—“ The cook shrugged one single shoulder up “We are just _friends_.”

“ _Right_ .” Said Tahajib, seriously, studying Flug’s face. “I’ve wanted to be your _friend_ for a long time too, did you know?”

Flug looked down at the potato peels in the floor of the kitchen and blushed. It doesn’t have to mean anything too serious, right? Black Hat did told him to have a normal life, they were not dating or anything…

It was just that… With Black Hat, for some reason, he felt—

A red-taloned finger touched his chin and pushed it up a bit, so Flug’s eyes could meet the deep dark ones of the imp creature. His tail curled around the human’s leg and Flug shook a bit nervous.

When he did not stop Tahajib from kissing him that night, at the kitchen, he knew it was a bad decision. But, instinctively, uncertainties that hunted him down every other week, like his age, his preferences, his fears and phobias, his decisions, his… _life_ … - it all came out into his mind and he… permitted himself to enjoy another person’s lips.

Tajh wasn’t the bad guy.

Flug was.

  
-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

 

When Black Hat showed up a week later at the Pub and ordered the same as always - Flug banged his head into the kitchen’s wall five times in a roll, screaming internally at himself.

Tajh entered the kitchen with a tray in hand and a glass of water on top, seeing Flug’s situation. He opened his mouth and raised a hand to say something to comfort the cook but… he knew it was a hard situation for the human. So he put the tray down on a bench, picked the water and approached his crush.

Flug thanked the water, and looked up at Tajh ashamedly and apprehensively.

“Do you _want_ to--” The imp tried to ask but the cook stopped him before he could complete the question.

He couldn’t answer that.

“Le-let me talk to him, ok?”

Tahajib nod, and left the kitchen with the tray under an arm.

Flug sighed tiredly and drowned the water like it was a shot of alcohol.

He _wished_ it was.

 

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

  
“...” Black Hat frowned, looking down at his hands sadly.

“I’m really sorry!” Said Flug, flushing at the situation. “I swear I _will_ keep giving you my blood, it’s just that _now_ we can’t--” He stopped his own words, blushing even more.

_Damn it, Flug. You are an adult. Stop being embarrassed about it!_

The cook reprimanded himself internally.

They were at a 24hs coffee shop, Flug wasn’t in the mood for dining while discussing things with Black Hat - much less serious business like that.

Serious _serious unhappy_ _business_.

“Am I _bad_ to you?” Asked Black Hat, looking Flug deep in his eyes.

“What? No!” The human shook his head, answering quickly. “You we-were…” Another blush started to crawl up his neck into the tip of his ears. “You _are wonderful_ to me.” He whispered timidly, sipping his coffee.

The eldritch frowned even more, sighing in confusion.

“ _Why_ then?”

It was Flug’s turn to sigh tiredly and look at Black Hat’s eyes.

“I’m _thirty seven_ , Black Hat.” He answered. “I know I probably don’t look like it when we are together, but I _do care_ about the rest of my life.” He explained.

The eldritch groaned frustrated, but didn’t say anything in response. Deep down he _knew_ it wasn’t Flug’s main problem.

Like every human being that existed on the planet - the human was probably insecure and unsure about their _kind_ . Eldritchs were popular for being rich and powerful, but they are also famous for being _horrible dates_. Their species do not like to show affection and do not express their own thoughts very well. They are one of the worst when it comes to relationships and Black Hat knows it must be Flug’s main motive to quit their casual encounters.

Regardless whatever else Flug said was the real motive.

Eldritchs are also stubborn, apparently.

“But, as I said.” The cook started again, trying to cheer the mood up a bit. “I will still give you blood, if you so desire.”

After a minute, the eldritch assented - looking at the human’s round goggles.

But what Black Hat really desired, though, was _Flug_.

 

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

  


“J-just wait a se-second--” Flug tried to push Black Hat away from his neck but the eldritch wouldn’t free his waist. Strong arms hugging and pinning him against his dark chest, lying the younger over him on the couch. “A-aah” The human moaned instinctively when the eldritch’s thighs moved into between his ones to push them apart. A taloned hand slipped inside the back of the man’s pants easily and started, skillfully, fingering him. “Ah-aAh _Shit--!!_ ” The cook’s whole body was shaking, those pointy teeth deep down the conjunction of his shoulder and neck was making him gasp in a combination of pain and pleasure.

Black Hat was being careful to not hurt Flug’s internal walls with his talons, but he was going fast and precisely, looking for that bunch of nerves inside the human’s body that he _oh_ so much _loved_ to press against.

“Do-don _-nttt_ ” Flug tried to fight against his manhandles, but his mouth was salivating too much to form full words.

Black Hat praised himself, convict that he was doing a great job enticing up the cook. He was already half-full though, he needed to be fast or Flug wouldn’t let him continue after realizing that the eldritch wasn’t drinking his blood anymore.

Using an ultimate weapon that Black Hat learned to (and would dare use only in real necessity) - he started to _purr loudly_ while sucking the human’s blood and fingering as deeply as his fingers could go inside him.

Flug came shouting Black Hat’s name and clenching both hands into the elder’s shoulder. His face, extremely red and warm, and his eyes, lost in a faraway land, gave out how satisfied he was. The eldritch, admired by how beautiful the expression of the human was, couldn’t control his own instincts on licking the tears of the younger’s cheeks. That precious blood was still dripping for the wound in his fragile shoulder but Black Hat didn’t want to move from that perfect position where he could feel Flug hard beating heart and broken breaths. Having an urge to embrace the man, he did it before the human could come down to his senses and start to shout at him for what he did. Flug moaned a bit enjoying the embrace immensely, but, when he _finally_ came down to reality, he bit his bottom lip in shame and anger, pulling himself away from the dark creature’s chest.

Black Hat, unwillingly, did let him step away from the couch fastly. A meter away from the furniture Flug’s low pressure hit him and his knees gave out, he fell into the ground holding his head and bitten shoulder - feeling dizzy.

Black Hat quickly grabbed the first aid kit and helped the guy patch the wound up - although Flug pulled his hands away from his body too many times, the eldritch was stubborn enough to not give up, winning the right to help the cook over arguments about bleeding until death.

He knows what he did was a dirty move. He apologized to the cook, but he did not regret his own actions. _At all_.

Flug stared at him with serious and sad eyes. Deep down he knew Black Hat was _messing_ with him. He whined and cursed the creature, telling him to NEVER do it again, if he did not give the eldritch permission to. And that, if he _dared_ to against this rule, Flug won’t let him get _near_ his neck _ever_ again.

Black Hat tried to argue, but Flug wasn’t in the mood for discussion. It was his wanting and the eldritch was going to follow it or he would have to give up on everything about the human, including his blood.

The dark creature left that apartment really late at night, hard feet stepping on the ground, booking the best prostitute he could find a block down the street and doing her wishing with all his might that she was a _certain cook_ instead.

He knew he was the one that said to the young man to not give up on relationship opportunities, since they were not a _thing_ . But the fact that Flug _was_ dating someone else now and can’t do sex with the eldritch anymore - it’s---

He knows he can’t just _jump_ the man, it isn’t _right_.

But Black Hat was _weak_.

He was _too weak_ when it came to Flug and his delicious blood, and curves. The sounds he makes and the way he calls Black Hat’s name. The marvelous sensations he gives him when he’s deep _deep_ inside the human’s body while sharing a wet kiss--

It was something Black Hat had in his arms not even _two months ago_ and now--

The idea of _someone else_ taking Flug from him, was--

**Too** **_wrong_ ** **.**

Taking a deep breath in, the dark eldritch creature decided.

He wasn’t a nice guy. If it takes hard ways to get Flug back, he was willing to do it.

Regardless of anything.

 

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

  
They made a deal. The dark creature would still have the cook’s blood once a mouth, but, nevertheless, they _won’t_ be able to do any dirty touch.

And it was the final decision.

So… After that, their monthly encounter followed more or less like _this_ :

“P-pa-pause- _pause_ .” Flug would most probably beg for it, while Black Hat had just started to drink from the guy. His teeth buried deep down the human’s conjunction of neck and shoulder, and his lips touching the cook’s skin like kissing a delicate flower. The eldritch would propositaly make the sucking much more sensual than necessary, caressing the human’s waist and hips saying it was for comfort, but it did the _opposite_ . “ _Pause!_ -Blac--”

With heavy breathings and uncomposed slightly flushed face, the eldritch would give the guy the time he needed to recover, because if he didn’t he would most probably do bad _bad_ things to the cook and that delicious soft, white and freckled skin.

“I-I need wat-ter.” Would whisper Flug resting his warm forehead in the elder’s shoulder. Black Hat would offer to remove their clothes so they could be more comfortable and there would be less laundry in the morning to do - But the cook would only look suspiciously at the man and deny with a shaking head. He knew the eldritch could feel how hardening the younger’s nipples were getting by each suck, they didn’t need more tension to deal with.

Black Hat would take pity on the guy, and hand him the water bottle Flug learned to keep nearby. The movement of swallowing liquid that Flug’s throat did, made the wound on the human’s shoulder to spill and drip thin lines of blood down his chest and back - instinctively urging the eldritch demon to salivate and dive for it, licking the cook’s skin like a popsicle.

Flug, while being licked in such urgency and wanting, was biting his own knuckles to hold back the moans that so much wanted to escape whenever Black Hat touched him.

When the dark creature of the night was so drowned in pleasure getting drunk on the mix of blood and sweat, by each lick, his taloned hands seemed to finally work on his own - reaching and playing with Flug’s sensitive breast. Getting moans in reply, Black Hat congratulated himself and _purred_ into the human’s tender neck, wet tongue licking his way up into the younger’s ears and make him shudder more. His actions, although seemed instinctive, were all _intentionally_.

The cold water would spill all over his head as Flug would try to keep his shiver and erection from showing - The bottle would hit the ground waking up both from the mindlessly state. And Black Hat would have to sit in the armchair so he could concentrate on _not_ jumping the human again.

Not that he _cared_ . But Flug - and apparently his new _boyfriend_ \- did.

“Why do you keep throwing water at me?” Black Hat would ask, again and again, each time, frowning in upsetment.

“Because you won’t stop if I don’t.” Would be the puffy reply, and even the eldritch knowing it was true, he just couldn’t help but wish that _keeping going_ would _not_ be a problem.

Sighing and trying to recompose from the excited state, Flug would just turn on the TV and wait for their erections to cease. Just to be a _prick_ , Black Hat would deliberately invite the human over for a shower, while taking his clothes off and entering the bathroom. Flug would always deny with a whine, picking the bottle up off the floor and throwing it at the demon, hearing his cracked laugh.

Once apart, both would sigh in frustration and demand their own bodies to stay satisfied with what they got, because nothing else was going to happen that night between them.

After sharing an uncomfortable goodbye talk that had too many lies to be considered _good_ , Black Hat would stay outside of Flug’s building, smoking a cigarette or two while looking up at his window, until Tahajib shows up with a pack of beers in hand. The imp guy would acknowledge the eldritch man with a nod and an humorous joke, almost always receiving a curse or a counterattack disguised as a joke back in reply. Tajh would do the same, with indirect adult innuendos that would sometimes enrage the dark demon, but most of the times Black Hat would ignore it for Flug’s sake, stepping on his cigarette and leaving the block to look for the best blond whore with freckles his money could buy.

Sometimes they would start a fight in front of Flug’s building, disturbing all the residents, and, at those times, the cook would have to stop it before someone gets hurt.

 

Flug gave up this routine in the _fourth_ time.

 

He just couldn’t do it. Getting all worked up with Black Hat sucking his blood each time more and more _daring_ , naughty hands slipping over his shirt, scratching his waist and making him arch with pleasurable pain. Or surprise attacking him from behind when the cook was still getting the bottle of water from the kitchen, whispering into the human’s ears that he was _starving_ \- knowing Flug’s weak spot about this specific subject - and biting him before the cook could respond.

That time was the last drop. After feeling Black Hat’s bulge press against his ass when the human told him he wanted water and arched to reach at it - he shouted ashamed and squeezed the bottle opened into the eldritch’s face, throwing all the content into the dark skin of the demon. The older man was pretty pissed, like he always get - but he knew it was his doing, so he deserved it.

Then, when they got back in the living room. Flug already patched up and aided. The cook took a deep breath in and unhappily told Black Hat that he needed them to _stop the contact_.

The man frowned angered and told Flug that _no, he wouldn’t stop it. No matter how much the human begged him to. Because he still wanted Flug to be his._

So Flug had to make a very _very_ hard decision.

And told Black Hat to not come back for him again.

  
-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

 

Flug wasn’t sure what “don’t come back” entails for an eldritch - but “Please, come back! _Oh_ , and, taking an opportunity on it, start a _freaking fight_ with my _fucking boyfriend_ in the _middle of my establishment_ so everybody knows how promiscuous I am to be having sex with two guys _at the same time_.” didn’t sound right.

Anyway, that was what happened.

  
-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

  
“What the _FUCK_?!” Shouted Flug in Black Hat’s face inside his kitchen, where he decided to take both so no one else needed to see the fight or the cook’s bared face. “Black Hat??!! whAT DID YOU--” He pointed to the guy, then he clenched his head with both hands and groaned, cursing them loudly.

The human turned around and picked a pointy knife that was over one of his tables, and shook it around both creature’s direction, his face showing anger and madness.

“MY. FUCKING. PUB!!” He shouted again, neither could guess if he was more red because of shame or because of _rage_ . “For ALL the **FUck** ing places--”

He kept going, cursing and reprimanding both adult men for the chaos they did on the place, the broken chairs, tables, thousands of dollars on the infrastructure, the glasses, the television, their expensive drinks, the customers that were probably scared for _life_ \- Flug said _everything_ that was stuck into his throat, making him _furious_.

The imp guy at least had the decency to look at the floor, repentant of his deeds.

Black Hat, though, didn’t expect to fall in **_love_ ** hearing someone yell at him.

 

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

  
Flug broke up with Tajh.

Actually, Flug broke up with _both_ \- but he wasn’t dating Black Hat to _break_ any relationship with him. But it _did_ mean that Flug wasn’t going to let the eldritch near his neck _EVER again_.

In the dark creature’s mind, though, what was really important was that “ _Flug broke up with Tajh._ ”

He had to go back to his city the day after that, but he went home with a smile on his face.

His plans for the future already including the cook on them. In a dreamy, and hopefully not far, future.

Next month, he’ll be back and win Flug over. For certain.

 

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

 

He didn’t.

 

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

 

And next month, he didn’t either.

 

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

 

On the third try, Black Hat started to suspect he was doing something wrong…

He couldn’t find Flug _anywhere_.

He had sent enough money for Flug to rebuilt the Pub from scratches - and the cook accepted the money gladly since the eldritch was the one that wrecked his business in the first place. But… he hadn’t seen the human ever since that day.

When the place was _finally_ reopened, Black Hat went to see the new reformed Pub. Entering, he was mesmerised to see how nice the new architecture came out. He decided to sit at a table near the kitchen’s door and ordered the new menú. Likewise the rest, _thankfully_ , there’s a _new_ waiter. He grinned at himself and ordered that special dish he always did back then.

He was served, and it was delicious as always. Black Hat finished his dinner licking his lips in expectation. Wondering what would they do first when they were finally _alone_.

The problem was that… the Pub _closed_ and there was no sign of the cook.

The new waiter - Elliot, as he introduced himself - told him they were closing and that Black Hat would have to leave. The eldritch assented, asking him if the cook was available.

Elliot blinked and slowly explained that Flug went _home_.

The eldritch frowned. But he accepted. He _knew_ where Flug lived (even though he haven’t found him there ever since), so he would just pay a surprise visit.

When he arrived at Flug’s apartment, it was _empty_.

Then he finally understood.

The cook had moved out.

 

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

 

Black Hat wasn’t happy. Flug was ignoring him, _purposefully._

He found out the cook was living in an apartment he’d built in the second floor of the Pub, up the stair that could be accessed from behind the establishment. When Flug, also on _purpose_ , would NOT meet him after closing the Pub, the eldritch would sit in the stairs of his apartment and smoke a cigarette - in hope to see the man _before_ he could run and lock himself inside his home.

That night, he found out Flug had built an emergency entrance from _inside_ the building and cursed the smart human loudly in thought.

  
-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

 

He did not give up.

Black Hat kept trying to meet up with him, it didn’t matter what Flug was doing or trying to make him do.

Frowning while looking at the cook’s window, the eldritch would sadly sigh and smoke, quietly. From time to time Flug would appear there, staring down at him and mouthing ‘go away’ followed by hand gestures.

Black Hat would laugh, and put a hand in his stomach - making a hurt face and mouth back ‘I’m hungry’.

Blushing, the human would ignore him, pulling the curtains back.

It was Black Hat’s clue to go home.

But he would be back next month.

 

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

  


“Your name is Elliot, right?” Asked Black Hat to the waiter, analysing him.

He was just a young human boy, he wouldn’t be a problem.

Elliot assented.

“What may I serve you today, sir?” The man asked politely, like Flug instructed him to do.

“I want the same as always.” Black Hat responded, raising a hand to deny the menu handed to him. “And a glass of your best Cabernet Sauvignon.”

After Elliot had noted his order and sent to the main computer connected to a monitor in the kitchen (a pretty new technology that Flug decided on spending _his_ money with) - the eldritch man would sign and open a handbook he used to read on the way to that city, so he could at least make his lost time productive.

The meals he orders, slowly, each month, would come with more and more Red-O-Type sauce. Which would fulfill his needs for blood for a long time. It helped that the dish was _delicious_ , like every meal that the cook did and does - but it did not ease the weird sensations on his chest that screamed for Flug’s pulse under his lips and his beating heart pressed against his skin.

It has passed almost a _year_ already.

Black Hat’s business were doing good. He had enough money to buy Flug’s whole building with _him_ inside (Or at least demand the human to tell his own body’s price - preferably on dollars).

He wouldn’t do it, though.

As time passed, he would just dream and desire more that Flug would - by pure and spontaneous will - come to him, accepting another chance.

When his dish arrived, it’s smell was so wonderful he had to swallow the saliva filling his mouth. He devoured it slowly, sending sad glances at the kitchen’s door and window.

It was extremely rare to actually see Flug while working, but from time to time he would be able to, and, even more rarely, catch him glancing back. If Black Hat had a heart it would probably beat like crazy just with that single act - and, at those days, he would most likely purchase _Madalena_ again. A whore he met that doesn’t mind getting fucked using a damn paperbag on her face (blessed be that woman in his life).

Anyway, Black Hat was falling deep, _deep_ , **_deep_ ** down in a no-way-back unrequited _crush_.

It was _new_ for him.

Such strong new _emotions_.

The main problem was that Flug probably _did_ like him back, but the eldritch - as presumably right, back months ago, like all of his kind - was a _horrible date_.

 

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

  
“Chief.” Called Elliot to his employer, seeing that Flug was still sitting beside the freezer, lost in his own thoughts. “I have to go, but that man is still there.” He said handing over the keys for the expensive-drink cabinet, already doing the last tasks of his routine.

It was time for the Pub to close, but, like most Saturdays that Black Hat decided to appear, Flug would be obliged to close later just to not meet the man. The place was already empty! What was the damn eldritch _doing_ there?!

Elliot, _like an angel on his life_ , was already doing an extra job without being asked to, but he _needed_ to go home or he wouldn’t be able to keep up the day shift on the Monday Fair.

The cook sighed in frustration but freed him.

In his last attempt to think rationally on the fastest way to deny, _deny_ and **_deny_ ** , to shout at the dark creature to not come back again, to live his own life, to stop pretending that he had true feelings and just find another damn blood bank - The cook frowned at himself, _determined!_

This time he would kick Black Hat out on his own, and he would do it _with mastery_.

The was a grown-up adult, owner of his own business, taxpayer and a _man_.

Flug took a deep breath in and stepped out of the kitchen.

 

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

  


“ELLI!” Shouted an old man, ordering some people around at the fair. “Stop daydreaming and bring me t’at box, boy!!”

The caramel-skinned young man run at said place fastly, picking up the box before mentioned. His cell phone's ringtone was loudly sounding, taking the attention of those nearby. He blushed knowing that the new pop song didn’t suit that people's taste. At least not the ones working there.

He took the cell phone and accepted the call quickly, balancing it in a shoulder while taking the box to it's needed place.

“Hello?”

 

_E-Elliot! Hi, it-it's Flug..._

 

His boss’ voice sounded weary.

 

_Lo-look, I think we worked too much this weekend so… I'm… not opening the Pub tomorrow, okay?_

 

Elliot gasped surprised, but he was really _glad_ \- like the information just fell down from the heavens into his lap!! He was too tired and he did want a _rest_.

“Sure, Chief!! I guess we deserve it, right?”

The reply delayed a little bit to come, but it did, calm and quiet, like Flug was assuring the information to himself.

 

_Ye-yeah… I guess we do._

**Author's Note:**

> That's It. Thanks for the attention. Love you guys.  
> And remember to leave kudos, it keeps me writing.


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